Bell, Book and Candlesticks
by Sheila Bryant
Summary: To hide from the heavy rain, Lorelai is forced to crash at her parents' house. Find out how hot chocolate and the infamous Monkey Lamp help in bringing Emily and her daughter closer together.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer_**_  
All recognizable Gilmore Girls characters belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and the WB. I use these characters & their story without permission, but am not making any profit from the copyrighted characters. No infringement is intended._

**_Author's note: _**_Okay, so this is a chapter story I have written a long time ago but never got around to have it betaed and posted. It is complete but I will not post everything at once. ... Yes, this is a try to trick you folks into reviewing. ;o)  
Thanks to Lori for betaing this for me! You're a miracle worker. :oD_

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"Lorelai!" Her voice mirrored the shock that was written on her face when she opened the door and saw the dripping wet and violently shivering woman standing in front of it. Stepping aside, Emily took her daughter's wrist and pulled her into the house. She quickly closed the door to keep the down pouring rain from coming in and turned to look at her soaked child.

"I'm sorry." Lorelai hugged herself tightly, still shivering from the cold she had just escaped. "I dropped my cell phone in a puddle while I was storing the shopping bags in the trunk, and then my car broke down, and the rain just got heavier and ..."

"Stop." Her mother held up a hand, glad that her daughter immediately followed her request. Turning her head in the direction of the kitchen, she called out, "Lucia!" A dark haired woman quickly came towards them. Before she could say anything, Emily addressed her. "Lucia, please start the fire in the living room." When the maid nodded and turned to leave, she quickly called after her, "_Inside_ the fire place!" to make sure she would not walk in on a burning couch later.

She looked back at Lorelai and furrowed her brow. "You need to get out of these clothes." Seeing her daughter look down at her wet shoes, she suppressed a smile and walked past the younger woman, towards the staircase. Climbing the first few steps, she turned her head to where her offspring still stood in the middle of the foyer, trying to sound annoyed instead of concerned. "Well, come on."

Lorelai was not sure whether or not she should follow her mother, but when a movement of her head caused some of the water in her hair to run down her forehead, she sighed and did as she was told.

Walking straight into her dressing room, Emily tried to think of something for her daughter to wear while the maid was putting her clothes in the dryer. Looking around the room, she remembered something and purposefully walked towards its hiding spot.

Lorelai eyed her mother suspiciously from where she stood just inside the doorway, hoping she would not get her some ridiculous outfit she had always wanted to see on her. Damn her for almost wearing the same size. She raised her eyebrows in surprise when Emily turned towards her holding a towel and a white bathrobe with a rather familiar looking stitchery embroided on the breast pocket. "Oh. My. God. Is that, what I _think_ it is?" She pointed towards it, not able to stop a grin from lighting up her features.

"It's a robe." Emily shrugged, trying to sound unimpressed.

Her grin widened, when she saw her mother look down for a second. "It's not _a_ robe; it's _the_ robe."

Absently brushing her hand across the fluffy material, she walked towards the younger woman, but didn't quite meet her eyes when answering, "Well, yes, it is."

Her eyes fixed on her mother's face, she inquired further. "So you actually kept it, huh?"

"You didn't?" Meeting her child's gaze, she realized that there had been an audible trace of sadness in her voice and felt her cheeks warming. Emily found herself praying that the blush was not visible.

"Oh, I did." Lorelai answered quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of a smile on the other woman's features again. Shrugging, she added, "I just didn't think _you_ would."

Trying to think of a good reason, she stated the first thing that came to her mind. "Well, I paid for it; of course I kept it."

"Uhum." Her tone and facial expression clearly showed that she didn't buy it.

Deciding not to say anything further, Emily just handed her daughter the robe and towel wordlessly. When Lorelai did not move, but just kept grinning at her, she tried to sound annoyed, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Go and change. You're dripping all over the floor."

Finally taking the offered clothes, she decided not to tease any further for now. "Okay. Uhm..." Looking around, she wasn't quite sure where her mother wanted her to go from here. "_Your_ bathroom?"

Emily nodded and watched her daughter walk towards to the door. "I will meet you downstairs." Seeing Lorelai turn in her direction again, she added, "Give your clothes to the maid so she can dry them."

The younger woman nodded. "Okay." When her mother turned around to leave, she called her back. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

Lorelai smiled sheepishly. "Thanks."

Smiling mildly, Emily quietly nodded and left.

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_Author's Note: Sooo... how do you like it so far? If you're a good little reader and review this, I will post more. Soon._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer_**_ see chapter 1.  
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**_Author's note: _**_Okay, folks. My 'stats' say that I had 105 visitors to this story, so thanks for reading. So far I have received 8 reviews for chapter one, which means that every 13th reader actually bothered to leave a review. I'm superstitious, so could we maybe work on that, please?__ ;o). I know I'm awful. *blushes* Thanks to Lori again for her betaing skills. And THANK YOU SO MUCH for your feedback  


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Stepping into the empty living room, her wet clothes draped over one arm, Lorelai felt somewhat ridiculous about wearing nothing but the robe. At least it was as comfy as she remembered. Back then she hadn't wanted to admit it, but her mother had been right when she had pointed out that this was the most comfortable bathrobe she'd ever worn.

Smiling her thanks to the maid as she took the clothes from her, she watched her leave, not sure what to do next.

Looking around, she wondered where her mother was. Lorelai walked over to sit in her usual spot on the loveseat, facing the patio doors, dragging her bare feet over the carpet, enjoying its fluffiness. Slowly sitting down, she felt conscious about every move. She was tempted to pull her legs up next to her and get comfortable, but was afraid to do so. Her mother would not approve. Or would she? How would she react if she'd found her daughter relaxing in _her_ house? A house Lorelai had stopped calling her home half a lifetime ago.

Looking straight ahead, she watched the rain pour out of the almost black sky. She liked the sound it made against the glass. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the noises in the room; the cracking of the fire, the raindrops hitting the windows. It was nice. It felt nice. And calm. ... Strange.

Lorelai took a deep breath. It smelled of hot chocolate; of warmth, of the house and of chocolate. She furrowed her brow and opened her eyes, seeing her mother putting down a tray on the coffee table. _'When did she come in?' _

"I thought you might like something warm to drink." Emily did not look at her daughter, but concentrated on not spilling the contents of the mugs as she set down the tray.

Smiling, Lorelai watched as first a silver coaster and then one of the mugs was placed in front of her. "There are little marshmallows in it."

"You like marshmallows."

Lorelai looked up and caught the same slight uncertainty in her mother's eyes that she had recognized in her voice. "Yes, I like marshmallows."

Emily smiled mildly, took her own mug, and sat down opposite her daughter. So she had remembered correctly; a strange kind of contentment warmed her heart.

Taking her mug, Lorelai carefully took a sip. She was a little unsure about whether or not she was allowed to just take the spoon that was lying next to the coaster and start fishing for the mini marshmallows that swum on top of the brown liquid. Deciding against it, she took a larger sip, trapping one of the sugary white blobs between her upper lip and the rim of the mug, before sucking it in.

Emily looked up as she heard the strange noise her daughter's action caused. Furrowing her brow slightly, she cocked her head to the side, an annoyed look on her face. "You know, you could just take the spoon."

She swallowed the marshmallow without savoring it the way she had intended. "Sorry." Lorelai mumbled grudgingly, but at the same time glad for the official admission. Grabbing the spoon, she eagerly fished out another marshmallow, and slowly closed her mouth around the silverware, placing the half melted marshmallow in the middle of her tongue. She pressed it against the roof of her mouth, enjoying the gooey texture, while already fishing for the next. Looking up she realized her mother was watching her over the rim of her mug and felt herself blush slightly. "This is good."

Deciding not to say anything about her daughter's behavior, Emily hid her smile by taking another sip of chocolate. For a moment she was tempted to admit that she had made the chocolate herself, but something inside of her stopped her from doing so. Instead, she just nodded and put the mug down on the coaster on her side of the coffee table. "Are you sure you're warm enough?"

Lorelai nodded, "Yeah. My feet are still a little cold, but that's all." Watching her mother standing up, she furrowed her brow as she saw her leaving the room and called after her. "Mom?"

Emily returned moments later with a dark Pashmina, handing it to her daughter. "Just put your feet up on the couch and put this over them."

Gaping at her mother, she didn't know what to say.

"What?" Emily studied her daughter's face closely, almost sounding offended.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally finding her voice again. "Uhm... you _never_ allow me to put my feet up on the couch."

Her mother shrugged. "I don't want you to catch a cold."

"My feet are dirty." Lorelai glanced at her bare feet then back up at her mother.

Emily crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her head to one side. "You were up there for at least twenty minutes; don't tell me you didn't take a shower."

"Well, I did." The younger woman shrunk back a little, having the feeling she had to defend herself.

Shrugging her slim shoulders, her mother went on. "So; your feet are not dirty."

"But I walked around." She didn't even understand how they had gotten into this argument, but she would not lose it, stubbornness making her temper rise steadily.

With a broad hand gesture, Emily tried to make her point. "The floor is clean." Even though she tried to keep calm, her voice showed her slight agitation.

Lorelai huffed, looking down at the immaculate carpet. "The floor is _more_ than clean."

Raising her eyebrows, she looked down at her daughter, a triumphant sparkle in her dark eyes. "So how could your feet be dirty?"

"They aren't." Lorelai held her stare.

"You said they are." This was getting ridiculous, but she couldn't just let it go. She couldn't just let her win. How on earth had they gotten into this in the first place? She had just wanted to do something nice, right?

"Well," Lorelai tried to come up with a logical explanation. "That's what you always said when you caught me with my feet on the couch."

Emily brushed her off. "That was over twenty years ago, it's not like it would matter anymore."

"There are _many_ things that happened over twenty years ago that still do." She stopped immediately. This had not come out the right way.

The house was deadly silent. The only sounds that were heard were the pouring rain and the soft cracking of the fire; the same sounds that had made her feel so comfortable not even ten minutes ago. Lorelai watched her mother turn around and stood up. "Mom."

Emily tried to sound as calm as possible, her hands balled into fists by her sides, while she willed herself not to run from the room. Slowly walking to the small end table on which the phone lay, she spoke over her shoulder. "I will call you a cab."

"No."

The sound of her daughter's voice made her stop in her tracks. Closing her eyes for a second, she took a slow, deep breath and turned to face her again. "Why is it that every time I try to do something nice for you, you turn it into something ugly?" Emily realized her voice trembled. She clenched her jaw muscles and forced herself to breath slowly through her nose.

Lorelai looked down. "I ... I don't know." Meeting her mother's gaze, she fought the tears that were burning behind her eyes.

The answer was not satisfying at all; it never was. At least she hadn't started yelling. Nodding slightly, Emily took the cordless phone from its station on the small end table next to the couch. "Where did you park your car?" When she saw the confused look on her daughter's face, she added; "We should at least get your car to the shop, while you're waiting for the rain to stop."

Nodding, Lorelai tried to smile. Of course, that made sense. "It's, uhm," she tried to remember. "Hey, why don't I make that call and you get us some more hot chocolate?" She reached out and took the phone from her mother's hand.

Emily held her tongue. With another nod, she stepped towards the coffee table and quietly put the mugs on the tray. She knew she should have just called the maid and let _her_ do it, but she needed an excuse to get out of this room; if only for a moment. Lifting the tray without making a sound, she headed towards the kitchen while her daughter dialed the familiar number of Gypsy's garage.

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_**Author's Note: **Cute, huh? And a little dramatic.... It will get worse, but in a good way. Don't understand me? Yeah, well... you'll have to come back and find out then. Muahahahaha! I have the next chapters sitting right here *gently pats external hard disk drive*. So if you give me a review, I will give you the next update. What is that you say? 'Bribery'? Yes, maybe. But it seems that it's the only way I get what I want nowadays. Ask my cousin._

_Now to my favorite part: Re-reviewing ;o).  
_

_**lilienprinzessin **- Wow, you're quick. AND you write long reviews... I like that. :oD No WAY I forgot about my other story. I just had this one sitting on my HDD for months already and thought I should post it before the fandom is getting even more quiet. Well, the 'clothes in dryer' thing actually was written differently but then Lori said it was too wordy and that was the change she came up with. I wanted to post this, so I just took it without reading over it again. Guess it's my fault after all.  
Yes, I'm sure Emily paid for the robe. I mean, I can't believe that the Spa wouldn't recognize they're missing.  
Well, since Emily had been the last one speaking, I thought it was pretty obvious that it was sadness in her voice.  
Thanks for the magnificent review! I am glad that you found the time to write all this. ;o)_

_**Curley-Q** - Thanks! I hope you enjoyed this chapter._

_**RedheadLVR** - *curtseys* Thank you, honey! Oh yes, those were great scenes indeed! And so early in the show too. I just wish we would have had more E&L in later seasons. Oh well, that's what fan fiction is for, right? ;o)_

_**Loridhhp **- Okay, I will have to hunt it down and correct it. So you are enjoying the story a second time? Well, you said you like reading it after the changes are made and concentrate on 'just' the betaing while doing so... I'm glad you still find it worth reading. :o)_

_**Slovesemmett **- What a funny user name. May I ask the meaning behind it? :o). I'm very pleased that you 'love' E&Ls interactions. Guess I kept them in character then, did I?_

_**DramaQueen1103 **- A sucker for Lorelai/Emily, huh? That's good to now. If you can live with some serious Emily/Richard you will find Lorelai/Emily interaction in my other story 'Having the Guts to Change', which, by the way, I'm going to update again today or tomorrow._

_**Valerie **- *lol* Yeah, if Lorelai doesn't babble in a situation like that then she's either ill or written out of character ;o). I'm glad we share the same sense of humor and yes, I thought the same about the robe. I hadn't really planned to give it to her but once it came to the scene my Muse just hit me over the head with the robe belt. ;o)_

_**Jenni-Wren** - Thanks. I'm glad you like it so much._


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer_**_ see chapter 1._

___**Author's Note: **I'm tired, upset and slightly depressed. Not a very nice mood to be in. Oh well, here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.  
Thanks to Lori for tackling the whole story in one go and to all those of you who take the time to review.

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Entering the kitchen, Emily looked around, wondering where the maid was. She put down the tray and walked in the direction of the laundry room to check whether she was watching the dryer do its work. Opening the door to the small room, she furrowed her brow.

Lucia was sitting on top of the dryer, a fashion magazine in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. Upon seeing her boss standing in the doorway, she quickly jumped off the dryer and tried to hide both objects behind her back.

"Lucia, what did I tell you about smoking in this house?" Cold fire blazed in Emily's eyes, as she addressed the black haired woman.

Looking down, Lucia felt blood rushing to her cheeks. "That it is not allowed."

"And this room is part of the house, am I right?" Her voice was dangerously low. How dare this woman go against her rules? She involuntarily tightened her hold on the doorknob to keep from yelling.

Trying to defend herself, the maid pointed towards the window. "But it's raining outside and-"

"-am I right?" Emily cut in.

"Yes Ma'am." Unable to stand her employer's stare, she looked down at her feet.

Nodding in contentment, she took a deep breath, feeling herself calming down. "How much longer will it take for my daughter's clothes to dry?"

"About 15 minutes." Lucia answered quickly, the sudden change in her boss's voice confusing her a bit.

Nodding again, Emily turned to leave. "Put the cigarette out and sort the rest of the laundry while you're waiting. As soon as my daughter's clothes are dry, take them up to her room. It's the last door on the right side of the corridor." Looking the young girl straight in the eye, she made sure that her next order would not be questioned. "After that you can go home."

"Yes, Mrs. Gilmore." Lucia had the odd urge to curtsey, not daring to disagree. It was better to be sent out in the pouring rain than to evoke Emily Gilmore's wrath.

Before Emily closed the door, she added. "And Lucia?" When she saw the woman looking at her with expecting, yet frightened eyes, she went on. "If I ever find you smoking in this house again, I'm going to fire you." With that final warning, she left, leaving a dumbstruck Lucia to stare at the off-white surface of the now closed door.

~*~

Heating up the milk for their hot chocolate, Emily's eyes were fixed on the already steaming liquid when she heard someone entering the kitchen.

"Your phone is dead."

"It took you _that_ long to figure that out?" Emily did not turn around but kept watching the milk to make sure it would not boil.

Lorelai walked over to where her mother was standing and turned to lean against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. "It just died in the middle of the call."

"Oh." Emily nodded. "The rain must have damaged one of the cables again. We had that problem before."

"Can I use your cell phone?" She watched while her mother stirred the hot milk.

"Well, you could just wait a few hours, I'm sure the phone will come back on eventually. It always does."

Lorelai wanted to reply something, but held her tongue this time. She did not want to fight again, and telling her mother that she wanted to call the garage right now would seem as if she wanted to do anything to make her stay in this house as short as possible.

Looking at the small pot on the stove, she watched her mother add finely chopped chocolate to the steaming milk and furrowed her brow. "_You'_re making the chocolate?"

"Why?" Emily glared at her daughter, "Do you think I'll poison you?"

Raising her hands in defeat, Lorelai shrugged. "No. I just thought the maid would." She looked around. "By the way; where is she?"

"I chained her to the wall in the basement and gagged her with your soaked clothes. What do you think?" Her mother retorted while she kept stirring the milk, watching it slowly changing color as the chocolate melted.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lorelai turned to lean her backside against the counter next to the stove and shrugged. "Well, I didn't like that shirt anyway."

Emily turned her head towards her daughter and smiled in amusement.

A moment of silence passed between them, before Lorelai spoke again. "So, uhm... where's Dad?"

"He's away on business." Adding some vanilla extract, Emily pushed the pot off the hot plate and turned off the stove.

Watching her mother closely, Lorelai stopped herself from telling her that they could use the same mugs as before when she saw her getting new ones. "Well, where is he?"

Filling the mugs, Emily answered, "He's in Philadelphia."

When she heard her daughter giggle, she turned towards her, clearly confused. "What's so funny?"

Lorelai smiled, "You don't remember?"

"Oh." Emily smiled mildly before she went to get the mini marshmallows.

Her daughter strolled to stand next to her mother, stealing herself one of the small white balls from the crystal bowl. "Well, at least it's not Tucson."

Smiling slightly, she decided not to scold her daughter for taking the marshmallow. "I think Philadelphia is worse."

Lorelai cocked her head to the side and studied her mother's profile. "How can a place where you can get cheese steaks lose out to a place filled with sweaty, sandal wearing men?"

"I don't think they're wearing sandals in fall." Emily handed her the mug. "Or at least I _hope_ not." Walking towards the living room, she called over her shoulder; "You can take the marshmallows with you, if you want."

Looking down at the bowl, she suddenly realized she already had another two marshmallows in the palm of her hand. Stuffing them into her mouth, she took her mother up on her offer and followed her. "You really hate men in sandals, huh?"

"Have you ever seen your father wearing sandals?" Emily sat down on the couch and put her mug down on the waiting silver coaster.

Lorelai sat down as well and thought it over for a moment, before answering hesitantly. "No.…?"

Shrugging her shoulders, her mother folded her hands in her lap. "That's because I do not let him wear them." She reached for her hot chocolate again and smiled. "_That's_ how much I dislike men in sandals."

"I really hope you 'dislike' men in mankinis too..." Lorelai grinned widely.

Furrowing her brow, Emily was not quite sure whether it was a good idea to ask, but she did. "What's a mankini?"

Lorelai let her head fall back, looked up at the ceiling, and groaned lowly, "_Thank_ you!"

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_So... like it? Hate it? I actually like it quite a bit. But then... I'm the author.  
_

_Jenni-Wren - Yeah, it was pretty fast, I'd say. But that's because all of this story is already written and betaed. I just have to break it down in chapters and post it._

_Slovesemmett - Thanks for explaining your username to me. It makes so much more sense now. *lol* Well, I hope you liked this chapter as much as the last one._

_REdHeadLVR - *lol* Yeah, I remembered the exact same episode when I began writing that part. It's good you feel bad for Emily... and look: Lorelai does too! Kind of. ;o)_

_Mary - Thanks for reviewing both chapters! Highly appreciated. :o) Well, it _is_ sad that the two Gilmores can't be in the same room together for long without fighting, but I think even after Season 7 it still would have been like that. They are both too stubborn to change too much too soon. ;o)_

_Loridhhp - So, did I post the part you wanted to review in the last one? *lol* Sorry for confusing you. I just thought this would be the best point to do the break, since I 'switched rooms' right there._

_lilienprinzessin - I was tempted to get them to shout at each other, but that would have influenced the story line in the wrong way. Insecurity is a huge part of their relationship, I think. Because there's always this part of them that thinks the worst of the other so that their hearts won't get hurt but their minds can say "I told you so."._

_Curley-Q - Thank you so much for your kind words! Well, we have seen similar situations in the show, so I think it floats very nicely for now. I am pleased that I was able to bend the original character so slightly that this story actually seems to work._


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer_**_ see chapter 1._

___**Author's Note: **Just 4 letters: TGIF!

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Emily looked up from her book, when she heard her daughter sigh. Watching as she put the magazine she had been reading down next to her on the couch, she raised her eyebrows when Lorelai stood up and walked over to the patio doors.

"I can't believe it's still raining." She crossed her arms over her chest, the trademark Gilmore pout gracing her lips, while she kept on staring into the blurry darkness.

"Well, it _is_ getting late." Emily admitted, closed her book and stood up, slowly strolling towards where her daughter was standing.

Taking a deep breath, Lorelai sighed. She had been here for hours. Suddenly wishing she had kept the watch her mother had tried to buy her a while back, she wondered how late it was.

"Guess it's too late to call a cab, huh?"

Emily felt her heart skip a beat when she realized the opportunity this brought with it. "I guess you're right." She tried to sound as impassive as possible, having a hard time containing her smile as she stood next to her daughter, looking out of the window as well.

Her daughter stayed silent for a moment, watching the rain, before fixing her eyes on the reflection of her mother's face in the window. "Mom?"

"Hmm?" _'Don't say anything. Don't rush her. If she wants to stay, she can. If she wants to leave, don't stop her. Don't stop her. Don't stop…' _Emily stared straight ahead into the night.

Lorelai didn't want to ask. She couldn't ask. _'Ask and she will hold it against you. Ask and you'll be trapped here. Ask and you show weakness. Don't ask. Don't ask!'_ Taking a deep breath, she simply stated, "I'm tired."

She felt her stomach contract, her heart beat quickening, and a strange warmth soaring up her spine. No, her daughter had not asked if she could stay. But she had not told her she wanted to leave either. _'Take it slow. Say something. Say something before _she _has to say more.'_ Crossing her arms over her chest, her voice was calm, "I had Lucia put your clothes in your old room." Seeing Lorelai nod out of the corner of her eye, she was afraid to say more, so she stayed quiet.

Biting her lower lip, she tried to come up with something to say that would make her mother take another step. _'Come on, Mom. You want me here. … And what would Miss Manners do?' _"Is the phone still dead?"

"Yes." She knew it was a lie. But this way she could make her daughter stay without having to tell her she thought it was better.

"I guess I'll have to stay over night then, huh?" _'Good thinking. It's not your choice. You don't have a choice; there is no other.'_

"I had the maid put clean sheets on the bed, just in case." _'It was something every good hostess would have done. No pushing… oh God, please don't let her make more of this than it is!'_

"Oh." The maid. Why had she not just left with _her_? All those missed opportunities. "Well, I'll go upstairs then."

Finally turning towards her daughter, she searched her eyes, unsure for a moment, before she finally smiled mildly and nodded. "All right."

Returning the smile, Lorelai turned around and walked in the direction of her room. This had gone smoother than she'd have thought.

Emily watched her climbing the staircase, her grin broadening. She was going to stay over night. And this time she was not even drunk. Looking out of the window again, she grinned even wider; how she _loved _the rain.

~*~

Closing the door behind her, Lorelai took a look around. The room looked immaculate. Something she had always tried to avoid while she had been living in it. Feeling the need to make at least a little mess, she walked over to the bookcase and crouched down. The wooden boxes on the lowest shelf were still filled with the magazines she had read in 1982. Pulling some of them out, she smiled at the stars on the covers and shook her head. Memories.

She walked over to her closet, tossing the stack of magazines she had been holding in her hands on her desk as she passed it. Taking a deep breath, she took hold of both doorknobs and pulled the closet open. _'Wow; Time warp.'_ She looked around, slowly lifting her hand to brush her fingers over the soft fabrics of her old clothes. It was all here. Even the torn shirts from her Flashdance period still hung in their place. Kneeling down, she sat on the floor and looked up in awe.

After a moment, she bent forward, and pulled out a pair of boots. _'Now if everything is still in its place then....'_ Pushing her hand into the boot, she smiled in triumph and pulled out what had been hidden inside of it.

Virginia Slims. "Whoa, you've _really_ come a long way, baby." She looked at the crumpled pack.

Not that she had liked smoking, but her mother had forbidden it. It had felt like a big deal to stand on the balcony at night and smoke a cigarette. But never at day; never with other people around. No; it would have been too risky. She had always liked to spite her mother, but something deep inside had stopped her from smoking in public. Thinking back, she suddenly wondered why. Opening the box, she looked at the contents. There were only two cigarettes missing, the one she had smoked right before climbing out the window after she had gotten grounded for staying out late with Christopher, and the one she had smoked after sleeping with him the night she had gotten pregnant.

When she heard a knock, she shoved the box back into the boot, her head snapping in the direction of the door. "Come in?"

"I saw light..." Emily explained, feeling somewhat silly for wanting to check in on her adult daughter. How to continue? _''Do you need anything?', 'Do you want a glass of water?' ... 'Shall I go and check for monsters under the bed?' Oh, now please.'_ She inwardly rolled her eyes at herself, glad that she had not asked any of those questions. They all were ridiculous.

"I was looking for something to wear for the night." Lorelai gestured towards the open closet. It was not a lie. It really had been her initial intention. Remembering her little cranny in the shoe had just come to her.

Glad that her daughter had made it unnecessary for her to say anymore, she smiled mildly and nodded. "They're still in the second drawer." She gestured towards it and stopped herself from adding, _'Just like they've always been.'_

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

"Well... good night, Lorelai."

"Good night, Mom." Watching her turn to leave, she looked down at the boot she still held in her hand and called out to her mother again before she could close the door. "Hey, uh, Mom?"

Opening the door wider again, Emily looked at her expectantly. "Yes?"

Lorelai gestured towards the open closet. "Why did you keep all this?"

She didn't know how to answer. Trying to make her voice sound as casual as possible, she shrugged. "Well, it's yours. … I could not just throw it away, could I?"

Looking down at where her hand had started playing with the shoelaces of the boot, she met her mother's eyes again. "Yeah well, guess not." After a moment of silence, she spoke again. "Hey, uhm… would you mind if I take some of this with me?"

Holding back from saying no, she knew there was only one answer that would _not_ lead to an argument. She didn't want to give her permission to rob her of the few things that had helped her make believe Lorelai would come back. But she could not admit that. Lorelai would laugh at her if she did; she wouldn't understand. Faking a smile, she nodded slightly. "As I said; it is yours. If you want to take any of it with you … it's your decision." Emily was proud of the steadiness in her voice.

Furrowing her brow slightly, Lorelai was confused by her mother's hesitation. It had only been there a split second, but it had been. Not sure if she had just imagined things, she decided to brush it off. "Thanks."

With another nod of her head, Emily knew that she would most probably say too much if she didn't leave now. "Good night, Lorelai."

"Night, Mom." Lorelai smiled and watched her mother closing the door.

* * *

_Nice little trip down memory lane, huh? Let's re-review:  
_

_lilienprinzessin - You're mixing up stories. Different story, different maid, different reason for not firing her (yet). Well, she didn't really deny her the cell-phone I'd say. She just wanted to know why it was so hard to wait any period of time to use the landline. If Lorelai had said 'because I wanna get away from you', then Emily would have had the reason she was secretly aiming for. Oh well, I for my part am glad she didn't._

_RedheadLVR - Well, I still think that most of the maids Emily fires give her good reason... the rest is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. ;o). This one for sure will get fired _very_ soon. But lucky for her, Emily had too much on her mind at the moment. (Emily: Gerta, did I fire you? Gerta the maid: No Emily: Wow, everything's off tonight.)_

_Valerie - *lol* The toast... oh my, you make me want to watch that episode again! Glad you liked the talk. Strangely enough the mankini part made a picture of Ed Herrmann in a neon green one appear in front of my inner eye. ;o)_

_miss_goodmanners - Ellie!! *tackles & hugs* I missed you! As always, your review had me purring like a cat.  
Well, I think Emily and Lorelai get along better when Richard is not there. Or so it seemed in the show as far as I can remember. Gosh, am I glad that you think the characterization is good. I'm always afraid I get a character OOC. Good to know that an expert like you say I did a good job! You know I'm a sucker for details and I like using little bits from the actual show, so the robe simply was a MUST. ;o)_

_Curley-Q - :oD I made you laugh? Oh good! I hope you are going to laugh again when you read about their breakfast together in the future chapter. ... You'll see._

_Loridhhp - Yeah, I was down that day. Life sucks sometimes. Thanks for the hug... I'm good at pretending. ;o). *happy sigh* 'little nuances', gosh, what a nice compliment. :o) I think in Season 7 they would be at a point where both make attempts to 'let little things go', as you put it. At least that's what I want to believe. I want this to be after 'I'm a kajak' (I just pretend that 'next morning scene' never happened) and 'Gilmore Girls Only'. Thanks for the great review. I might have to create a new word for them as well. ;o)_

_Mary - Yup, that's what I thought. As a matter of fact I find myself nodding at everything you wrote. *lol*_

_Poppinswannabe - Yay! Another reviewer! *giggles*. I'm glad you found this story & like it as much as you say you do. Well, I think there are going to be at least 3 more, depending on how I cut the rest of the story. But yeah.... Thanks for reviewing, Nikki!_

_Lakeland - A new name on my list. Hello & welcome to my little corner of the world. Or at least my little corner of ffDOTnet. ;o). Thanks for stopping by! Nope, I haven't watched The Bachelorette, as a matter of fact, I don't think I even know that show (I'm not living in the US). But I think now I'll have to google it to find out about that mankini incident. *lol*_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer**__ see chapter 1._

_**Author's Note**__: Quickie._

_

* * *

  
_

Lying in bed, she looked up at the ceiling and listened to the rain.

Her daughter was here. She was under her roof. Overnight. And this time she wasn't even drunk.

_'Don't make too much of it. She did not really _choose _to stay here.'_ Looking towards the window, she smiled. No matter whether she'd had a choice or not; she was here. And they had not fought. Well, not really.

They were still on good terms. She felt proud of herself.

_'But she wants to take some of her belongings with her.'_ Emily felt her heart tightening in her chest. She would take away the last few things that connected her to this house. Tomorrow Lorelai would leave and take what was dear to her with her. Not only would there be items missing from the room that had not changed in over twenty years, but there would be nothing left to make her come back. Not even those dreadful clothes Emily still did not approve of. Not even the cigarettes stuffed into the boot. She was sure Lorelai would take them with her. Well, she also was sure that her daughter had no clue she knew about them.

She had checked her little secret stash from time to time, glad every time she found that there had never been more than those two cigarettes missing. First she had wanted to scold her for it, but she hadn't. She didn't even really know why, but she simply hadn't.

What would happen tomorrow? Would they get into a fight? Of course they would; they always did. She didn't want it to happen. Could she prevent it from happening? No. She had tried before, but it was no use. Something would happen tomorrow morning. Something she could not foresee and would not be able to change.

Pulling the sheet further up around her, she sighed. It felt strange to have her here again. And she could not make up her mind whether it was a good kind of strange or a bad kind.

Emily reached to her right and brushed her hand across the smooth surface of her husband's pillow. Crawling further into the middle of the bed, she grabbed it, wrapped her arms around it and took a deep breath. The scent made her smile. It had the strange ability to calm her down. Snuggling against it, she sighed in content.

Now she would be able to sleep.

~*~

Lying in bed, she looked up at the ceiling and listened to the rain.

She was in her old room. And she was sober. It felt strange. Even worse; it felt kind of nice. No, it couldn't. How could it feel nice to be lying in this bed? Okay, so it was soft and cozy; but all those memories. All those times she had been lying here, because she had not been allowed to go out, the times her mother had sent her to her room, the times she had actually fled to it because she couldn't stand being downstairs with her parents anymore.

She had fled to it. Yes, she had. It had been her harbor. When she had run upstairs and slammed the door closed nobody had come after her. She had been safe here. She had just locked the door and turned up the volume on her Walkman and nobody had been able to harm her in any way.

Rolling on her side, her eyes came to rest on the cradle Rory had slept in when they had lived here.

It was still here. Everything was still here. _'Everything?'_ Lorelai furrowed her brow.

She reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on, then sat up and looked around the room.

_'Oh my god; it's 1985.'_ Her eyes widened. Yes, it was. In this room, time had stood still. The only thing missing was the table on which the dollhouse had been standing and the few things she had taken with her that night.

_Nothing_ had changed. She wasn't completely sure but she could have sworn even the flower bouquets in this room looked the same as the day she had left.

Lorelai closed her eyes and took a deep breath, whispering, "Don't read more into this than there is." Letting herself fall backwards, she reached for the bedside lamp again and turned it off.

After a few moments, she growled in frustration and opened her eyes again, staring up into the darkness.

She could really use another one of those hot chocolates. Did she thank her Mom for making them? She didn't remember. Well, talking about the hot chocolate would have led to an argument, for sure.

Lorelai grinned; her mother had _made_ hot chocolate. She had not just told the maid; _she_ had _made_ it. Her mother; the same woman who, according to Rory, did not even know where the cookie sheets were had _made_ hot chocolate! Furrowing her brow slightly, a question formed in her head, _'Why?' _

Pulling the sheets further up around her, she sighed.

Now she'd _never_ be able to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer **see chapter 1_

* * *

Looking around the breakfast table, Emily checked for the umpteenth time if everything her daughter might like for breakfast was at her hands. She had known that Lorelai would not be awake as early as she and had sent the new maid out to the bakery to get two pieces of basically everything they had.

It had been Christine's first assignment, and Emily had been nervous whether or not the young woman would be capable of fulfilling it, but so far it looked like this one was a keeper.

Or at least one that would last more than one day.

Sighing, she lifted the cup to her lips and enjoyed the taste of her second cup of coffee, when she heard someone descending the staircase.

Glancing at the pile of food in front of her, she suddenly had second thoughts. It would look as if she was trying too hard. _'Now, Emily, don't be silly. Just act as if this is the most natural thing in the world.'_ She felt nauseous. This might be the thing she had been afraid of. This might be the thing that they would start arguing about.

Gritting her teeth, she scolded herself for her train of thought and went back to reading the newspaper.

"Morning, Mom."

This was a good start. Well, maybe she had not seen the food yet? Not after the first cup of coffee had helped her open her eyes. Emily tried to play it cool. "Good morning, Lorelai." _'Now this wasn't so bad.'_ she told herself, a smile tucking at the corners of her mouth.

Seeing her daughter sit down in her usual seat, she called out to the maid. "Christine, bring a coffee cup for my daughter!"

"I'm sorry I slept in." Smiling her thanks to the maid when she placed the cup of coffee in front of her, she then looked at the piles of food on the table.

"That's all right." Taking a sip of her coffee, she watched her daughter do the same. "Now that the phones are working again, I wanted to call the garage for you but then I realized I didn't know where your car is parked."

Lorelai met her mother's gaze. "Oh, yeah. Well, I will call Gypsy." Looking at the food again she added, "After breakfast. This looks good."

"Would you like anything else?" Emily raised an eyebrow, realizing that Lorelai had yet to fill her plate. Usually, when her daughter liked something, she would just grab it. It made her feel suspicious that she hadn't yet, and she hated herself for it.

"There's nothing that's not already on this table, Mom." Lorelai joked with a shrug.

Sitting up just slightly straighter, Emily felt the need to defend herself. "Well, as you can see there is neither bacon nor eggs…"

Her daughter rolled her eyes and tried to show her mother that she had just been teasing her by adding, "…yeah and there are no Pop-Tarts."

"Pop-Tarts?" Emily furrowed her brow in confusion. Right; Pop-Tarts! She remembered something about Pop-Tarts. Something Rory had said. Well, she had thought it had been a joke, but since her daughter had just added it to the list of missing dishes, maybe it wasn't. What if she really was used to eating Pop-Tarts for breakfast? Why hadn't she thought of this before?

Grabbing one of the sugary treats that sat in front of her, Lorelai shrugged. "It's okay, Mom."

"No. If you want Pop-Tarts, I could ask Christine to make you some."

She had to grin. Was there urgency in her mother's voice? Looking at her, she couldn't stop herself from teasing her again. "Say that again?"

"What?" If only she could understand what went on in her daughter's head. Why on earth was she grinning like this? Was she actually mocking her?

"Pop-Tart," Lorelai shrugged and took a bite of her breakfast to show her mother that she indeed didn't need anything that was not already on the table.

"Why would you want me to do that?" The confusion in the older woman's voice mirrored the one on her face.

Grinning broadly, Lorelai giggled. "Because it's funny when you say it?"

When all she got in return was a strange look, she decided to drop the topic. "Well, anyway, I don't need a Pop-Tart. I mean," she made a broad gesture with her hand, "what's on this table could sate a whole herd of elephants… if they're not diabetic. Because then the stuff on this table could _kill_ a whole herd of elephants. Of _diabetic_ elephants…" Not giving her mother a chance to get a word in, she went on, "I don't know about their digestion. Do you think an elephant can be diabetic?" Again she didn't wait for an answer, "I mean, it's not as if they'd walk around the desert and think 'Hey, look, a candy bar. Oh no, I can't eat that. I'm a diabetic'."

Emily rolled her eyes and sighed. "Is this going to turn into another 'anvil' monologue?"

The trademark Gilmore-pout spread over her daughter's features. "What? Just because I'm the only person who realizes stuff like that doesn't mean it's not important."

Putting down the newspaper she had still been holding, she cocked her head to the side. "How can the fact whether an elephant could be diabetic or not be of any importance?"

Lorelai shrugged, defending her train of thought. "Because if you don't know it then what about all those elephants in the zoo?"

"Could we please drop the topic?" Her mother re-directed her attention towards the newspaper.

Grinning, she knew she had won. "Only if you admit that there _might_ be elephants for whom it _could_ be important to know whether they're diabetic or not."

Emily had a hard time keeping back the smile that tucked at the corners of her mouth. "This is ridiculous."

"Says the woman who is on the board of a society that has set out to save some strange pansy." Teasing her mother was just too much fun to stop just yet, and it seemed that Emily did not really mind at all.

Looking at her daughter, it took her a moment to regain the ability to speak. "It's called Berringiny pansy and it's a _very_ rare flower."

"Tell that to the diabetic elephants." Lorelai grinned.

Rolling her eyes, Emily decided to just stay quiet and went back to reading the newspaper.

~*~*~*~

Descending the staircase, she spotted her mother sitting on her desk, writing something. "Mom?"

"Yes?" Emily put her pen down and turned to look at her daughter.

"Do you have any cardboard boxes or anything I could use?" Seeing the confusion in the other woman's eyes, she pointed towards the direction she had come from and shrugged. "There is more stuff up there than I remembered."

"Well, you could always just leave it here." Unable to stand her daughter's gaze without giving away her intention, she looked down at the letter she had been writing. "It's not as if I'd throw it away, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But some of that stuff is really great and I actually had forgotten that I owned it." Why didn't her mother just give her the damn cardboard boxes?

Not looking up again, she shrugged. "There might be some empty boxes in the basement that you can use. Just ask the maid, I'm sure she will be able to find them."

"Okay." Furrowing her brow, she was confused by her mother's cool demeanor. Waiting for her to say more, she held back a sigh when the other woman stayed quiet. Lorelai turned to leave. "Thanks." After another moment of silence, she went to find the maid.

~*~*~*~

"Miss Gilmore? I think these are the ones your mother meant." Christine stood in the doorway, two rather large cardboard boxes in her hands, one on top of the other.

Looking towards her, Lorelai smiled. "Ah, yes." She stood up from where she had been sitting in front of her closet and took the boxes from the maid's hands. "Thanks."

"So, uh… you're taking all this stuff with you?" Christine asked. Her curiosity had cost her more than one job already, but she just couldn't help it.

"Yup." Sitting the boxes down on the floor, Lorelai began to fill them.

Still standing in the doorway, the young maid watched on as various items were placed in the boxes. "Want me to help you?"

"Uh, no. Thanks." She turned towards the other woman and smiled. "I have everything under control here."

"Okay, uhm. I'll be downstairs if you need me." Christine was about to leave when she saw her boss' daughter beginning to put some t-shirts in the box as well. "You're taking the clothes too?"

"Yeah, some of them." Lorelai didn't look up this time. This woman was slowly beginning to get on her nerves.

"I was just wondering because…" The maid trailed off.

Furrowing her brow, Lorelai turned around and studied her face. "Because what?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, and was about to leave, when the older woman's voice stopped her.

"Come on, spill it."

Christine slowly turned around, not quite sure how to get out of this situation. Looking in the piercing eyes of her counterpart, she suddenly felt afraid. How could the blue eyes of this woman look so much like her mother's brown ones? The look was just as scary as Mrs. Gilmore's. "Well, one of the first things your mother told me when I started to work for her this morning was that I was not allowed to ever go _near_ that closet." She pointed towards the object in question.

"Really?" Lorelai was visibly confused. "Uhm, why?"

Shrugging, the maid was glad that she was off the hook for now. "I don't know. But the look in her eyes … well, I know she's my boss, and I should not tell you, but believe me, she's Medusa."

Lorelai smiled. "You don't look too salty."

"Huh?"

Waving her hand, she shrugged. "Never mind. Uhm … thanks."

"Okay." Christine wanted to know what she had meant by it but decided to let it go. Turning around, she left.

Lorelai looked after her and began to wonder. This girl had only just begun working for her mother. She even doubted that Christine had ever set foot in this room, and still she had been told not to go near her _closet_? Why?

Why was her mother so reluctant when it came to her stuff? She seemed to be really upset about Lorelai taking her old things with her. Looking at the contents of the closet, she sighed. She'd never understand this woman.

~*~*~*~

"Do you have everything you wanted to take with you?" Emily watched her daughter walking down the staircase, the cardboard box in her arms. She tried to smile but it didn't work. In a few moments she would walk out the door and take anything that might have been worth coming back for with her. A wave of sadness washed over her, threatening to drown her, but she wouldn't let it show.

Nodding, she shifted the box to the side of her hip. "Yeah, it's all in here." Lorelai sensed that something was wrong but wasn't able to put her finger on it. As always, her mother's mind was a mystery to her.

"Well, all right." She couldn't look into her daughter's eyes. She would say something wrong. Anything she could say would either sound ridiculous or would get her suspicious and neither was an option. So she stayed quiet and looked at the box her child was holding.

They stood in the foyer, an uncomfortable silence between them, when the doorbell rang.

Lorelai looked towards the front door. "That must be Gypsy." Moving towards it, she went on, "I asked her if she could take me with her to the Hollow after she got my car."

Following her daughter through the foyer, Emily called after her. "You mean your broken car is in my drive way right now?" Was this some sort of test?

"Whoa, relax Mom." Lorelai stopped and turned around to face her mother, already grabbing the doorknob. "It's not leaking oil or anything. Nothing will happen to that precious drive way of yours." Where on earth had _that_ come from?

The annoyance in the younger woman's voice made her defense mechanism kick in. Crossing her arms over her chest, Emily glared at her. "Well, I certainly hope so or I will have to send the bill to this '_Gypsy'_ woman's garage."

Opening the door, her anger rose. "You do that. I'll leave now."

"Goodbye, Lorelai." Emily raised her chin slightly and watched her daughter step out of the house.

Already standing on the threshold, she looked her mother in the eye. "Yeah. Bye."

Blinking a few times to get out of the daze that had taken hold of her mind the second the door had closed, she took a deep breath. It _had_ to go wrong. It had been too perfect to last longer. But why did it hurt so much even though she had known this would happen?

~*~*~*~

Sitting in the passenger seat, she looked out the window as they drove down the road. Lorelai still couldn't believe how cool her mother had been before she had left her parents' house.

They had been fine yesterday. They hadn't even fought. What could have upset her mother so much that she had suddenly shut her out again just like all the other times?

Her eyes widened in something close to shock when it finally dawned on her.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **There. Long, huh? Well, let's see how long your reviews get then. Muahahaha. Sorry, don't have time for re-reviews. But I guess you won't miss them. Or do you?  
There is going to be one last chapter after this._

Off to hunt down plot-bunnies now. Be afraid.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer **see chapter 1

* * *

_Emily sat in the sunroom, going over her schedule, when she heard the doorbell ring for the second time. Rolling her eyes, she stood up to answer the door herself. Maybe she had been wrong about Christine.

Opening the door, she raised her eyebrows when she found her daughter standing in front of it, holding a cardboard box in her arms. "Lorelai."

"Hi, Mom." She grinned sheepishly. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

Stepping aside to let her daughter in, she looked at the box. "What is all this?"

"Well, it's … stuff." Lorelai tried to explain as she stood in the middle of the foyer.

Clearly confused, her mother eyed her suspiciously. "And you brought it here because…?"

'_Here we go.__'_ Taking a deep breath, she hoped her mother would believe the little story she was about to tell. "Well, you see … uhm …. You know I don't really have a basement, and the attic is kinda full, and this is all stuff I really want to keep but basically don't have any space for … so … I thought you could … like, uh, store it for me?"

"Store it?" Emily was surprised by the request. What was this all about?

Shifting the weight of the box, Lorelai shrugged. "Yeah. You know… there are really important things in here and I want to know they're someplace safe."

She watched her mother's eyes lighten up ever so slightly.

"So you brought them here?" Her voice showed a mixture of pleasant surprise and utter disbelief.

Lorelai felt her heart in her throat and smiled somewhat sheepishly. "Well, you have one _large_ basement. And now that there won't be any new hideous gifts from Gran that have to be stored in there … there is still some space left, right?"

Nodding in agreement, Emily tried to keep the delight out of her voice. "I suppose so."

"So… this box is really heavy, Mom." She stated the obvious, hoping her mother would finally get the hint.

Her eyes widened for a second. "Oh, yes." Stepping towards the table she had been sitting on, she motioned for her daughter to take the box over to it. "Just put it down there."

"Thanks."

Emily looked at the contents of the box. One item in particular caught her eye. "The monkey lamp?" She carefully took it out.

Shrugging, she slid her hands in the pockets of her jeans and tried to play it down. "Told you there's some important stuff in there." Lorelai didn't know why but her mother's reaction stirred an emotion within her that made a comfortable warmth spread through her body.

She turned towards her daughter and squinted her eyes for a second. "Are you sure you don't want to keep that at _your_ house?" Emily remembered the talk they had had about this particular lamp. She knew it was important to her daughter. Why would she want to store it _here_ of all places?

'_Okay, onto the second part of our little fairy tale.__'_ "I'm trying to redecorate a little." Seeing her mother nod, she couldn't stop herself from teasing her. "But you'll have to promise me not to trade it for some Baccarat candle sticks. I will check on it occasionally."

Emily looked at her daughter and smiled. It took a moment longer than usual for her to process the information she had just received. When she finally realized the underlying message, she had to make sure. She tried to keep the smile out of her voice. "So you're saying that you are going to come over and check whether or not I have thrown any of this away, are you?

Lorelai looked at the lamp her mother was still holding. "Yeah. I mean, I want to visit my monkey lamp from time to time. It has its Birthday coming up in a couple of weeks and…." Seeing her mother roll her eyes, she grinned. '_Mission accomplished.' _

She met her daughter's eyes, returning her smile. "All right. I will find a place for your box."

Watching the monkey lamp carefully being placed back in the box, she looked at her mother again. "And you won't throw any of this away."

Emily felt offended for a moment but when she saw the mischievous sparkle in Lorelai's eyes, she knew she was only teasing. "I won't."

This turned out to be easier than she had thought. "Because I have a list, you know."

Deciding to play along, Emily raised her eyebrows. "You don't trust me?"

Lorelai lowered her voice. "I don't trust _anybody_ when it comes to my monkey lamp." She was proud of herself when her mother giggled lowly. _'Seems I have found the right words for once.'_

"I will take good care of it." Emily smiled at her daughter, feeling strangely connected to her in this moment. Maybe, just _maybe,_ this was the beginning of a certain kind of understanding. She sure hoped for it.

Nodding, Lorelai held her mother's gaze. "I know you will." Something had changed; something small, but _something_. She couldn't quite understand what exactly, but even though they stood here in complete silence it did not feel awkward. It felt kind of nice. They were still looking at each other but it was not the staring-contest kind of look.

Trying to snap out of her musings, Lorelai was the first to look away. "Okay, uhm, I better get going."

Emily nodded. What had just happened? "All right." She did not really want her to go just yet, but she knew that she'd better let her. _'One step at a time.'_

Following her daughter the few steps to the front door, she watched her opening it. This time was completely different from the last time she had left. They did not fight. Lorelai had not exactly apologized but was there really something to apologize for? No, not really.

Turning towards her mother, she smiled. "Bye, Mom."

"Goodbye, Lorelai."

Emily watched her daughter close the door behind her, but this time her heart did not contract painfully in her chest like it had a few days ago.

Her daughter had come to her house not to take something with her but to actually leave something, something of _means, _not only '_stuff_' as she had put it. This might really be the beginning of something.

Turning towards the box her daughter had left, a slow smile spread across her face.

She was just about to call for the maid to put the box away when she reconsidered. Stepping towards it, she carefully picked it up and headed for the basement. _'Better do it yourself to make sure nothing gets damaged.'_ Yes, she would find a safe place for it.

Her daughter trusted her; maybe not with her heart, but at least with her monkey lamp.

'…_and who knows what the future might bring.__' _

_

* * *

**Author's Note: **The End. ... Nice?  
_


End file.
